Palace of Insanity
by LostInFanfics
Summary: It has been two years since Sherlock's death. Everyone has started to piece their lives back together, except John Watson. Now when he finally starts to get his life under control he receives a strange gift, a cell phone.


Chapter 1

I still remember that day, the day everything changed. I remember coming up with my plan, Moriarty killing himself, jumping but what I remember the most is the look on John Watson's face. That's the problem with being me, I remember everything, the good, the bad and the heartbreaking. Every day I lose myself in my mind palace in hope of finding a way, anyway of riding myself of that memory, but every day is the same, I can delete knowledge but not a memory, never a memory.

These last few months I've been extremely busy, tracking down Moriarty's last few followers. Finding them was never hard, for professionals they made quite a few mistakes. Though I'm pretty sure that the only one other than me to see their mistakes would be Mycroft. And every time I killed one or turned on in to be questioned or more likely be killed I'd visit my mind palace where John would instantly be at my side. I gave John all the knowledge and memories I knew the real John Watson to have so I could pretend, at least for a little while that he was there, by my side to help me.

Many nights, instead of sleeping I go to my mind palace to solve old cases. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, together they're unstoppable. For hours we'd run the streets of London taking my worries away with each step. I would stay like this for forever if it wasn't for the pounding on my door every morning.

At first they were worried over my state, but after a few months they realized that this is normal, well at least it is for me. Sometimes when I would "wake up" I'd find myself in random places around the safe house and other times I'd find I never moved, not even an inch. Those mornings are always the hardest because you wouldn't how stiff you can get after standing in one spot for 7 hours.

6 months later

It's about 1:35 in the morning when I finally arrive in London. I know that I can't stay in the city for more than a few days, but I decide to take the day off anyways.

Today its John's birthday, I know I can't say anything to him or let him see me but for today I take that risk. Talking to Molly I know that for john's birthday they will have a small party for him along with dinner at John's place. When I heard that he moved out of Baker Street my heart dropped a little but it makes sense. I had already sent one of Mycroft's men to get my present for John. I don't even know if he will care but I felt the need to get him something. I was very specific on what to get him, a new phone with all the numbers I deemed important. I even put my number in but it was under "in case of emergency".

Now it was approaching the time of John's party, I left heading for John's new flat. I had the driver park just across the street from the flat so I had a good view through the window.

5 minutes later John pulled up. It only took one glance to understand the consequences of faking my own death and how much strain it was putting on him. It took all my willpower not to run up to him then and there.

Before I went inside I took a single look around just in case. No I told myself, Sherlock won't be here, he is dead, dead I told myself and no matter how hard you wish he won't come back. Still I looked around and I noticed a single black car waiting across the street looking suspiciously like Mycroft's car. Stop John it's not Sherlock it's probably just one of Mycroft's men keeping an eye on me.

My heart plummeted in my chest when I knew John had not seen me, I knew that was good but a small part of me wanted him to come over and find me sitting there waiting for him.

Over the next few hours I watched that window intently making sure nobody was going to harm John. And so I waited watching as every half hour or so John would walk up to the window and peer out at the dark and empty street.

Wait, this street was normally busy why was it empty? Quickly I assessed my soundings looking for any threat to john's wellbeing. Glancing up at the window I saw not only John but also Lestrade looking out at the street.

I go back to looking for anything that might harm them when my phone goes off. Glancing at the caller ID I realize that it's John.

Shit! It's John. Knowing that he was using the new phone I got him, I answered the text.

**I need help. Someone in the building across from us is watching us –John**

All out of options I texted John back.

**Do they appear to have guns? Because if not I'm coming over –SH**

I hesitated before I sent it to John, god knows how he will react to me texting after all he probably thought I was just one of the MI6 agents Mycroft had laying around. Glancing up I had the perfect view of John receiving my text.

Sherlock. How could that possibly be? He's dead, I saw him die, I went to his funeral. I showed the text to Greg who was standing next to me, maybe he would know what to do.

This cannot be real. It has to be a trick, a horrible, cruel trick. Whoever did this will die, I will personally kill them myself, that is if John doesn't get to them first.

Turning back to john I said text him these exact words.

**I can see 3 people 2 have guns –John**

I know that John and Lestrade didn't believe me for one second I simply responded hoping that they don't completely hate me when I got to them.

**Cover my back, I'm coming to help –SH**

A few seconds later Johns reply came.

**Fine, but if you are a fake I will kill your sorry arse –John**

Smiling at John's reply I stepped out of the car and made my way across the street. About halfway across I heard a loud bang followed by a huge crash. Now running I opened the door and got upstairs literally as fast as my feet could take me.

Only as I entered the room did I feel the sharp pain in my left shoulder. Clutching it I made my way to John Watson who now was standing as far away from the window as the room allowed. A look of shock crossed John's face which if I had to guess was probably because his friend is seemingly back from the dead, but when he saw what was wrong his military training took over.

As he ran in the door my brain seemed to stop functioning. Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, why isn't he dead, not that I want him dead, but how?

Then suddenly as if in pain he grabbed his shoulder with a horrible grimace on his face. Then he mouthed a word, one single word.

Help

At that moment I came alive, giving orders as if on cue. Molly was instantly at my side asking if I needed help. Looking down at Sherlock is saw him give me that "sorry I screwed up again" smile. Motioning to Greg for help I said "now this may hurt a little".

Nothing could have prepared me for the pain that came next. Though t held it in until we were alone, well John, Lestrade and I. Thankfully we were in John's flat so they could just put me in his bed for the time being.

As soon as the door closed after the last person left I exploded, spewing foul language like there was no tomorrow, though most of it was Latin so it's not like anybody would understand it anyways. After I was done I looked over to john who was just standing off to the side looking puzzled. Knowing what had him and Lestrade confused I decided that this was a perfect time to tell them my story.

The shock on my face must have been apparent because Sherlock responded "yah I know I'll explain it when we have more time…and when were alone". After a quick glance over at Greg he said "I assume you know what to do now Doctor Watson".

And with that all the doubts I may have had about Sherlock returning, disappeared. Motioning to Greg for help I said "now we need to get your shirt off of you". Knowing there was a horrified look on Greg's face I smiled and for some unknown reason Sherlock smiled back.


End file.
